The old tree

In the winter when Ivan was seven, grandfather Jusht came to their farm and told stories all night, even after Maiket and Letibe had taken little Sohan off to bed and it was only Ivan and Ehva, who were thrilled to be awake in the candlelight, with the night as black as could be all around.

Jusht told them lots of tales, about how his parents came to live in the valley, how the village in the valley came to be, and how the mountain and the valley came to be themselves.

"When I was old enough, I left my father's home to make one of my own, just like Maiket did the summer before you were born," Jusht said, "but for me it was just after the winter and the weather was sharp. My father gave me strong new boots and a coat which had always served him well and kept him warm, and an axe for cutting firewood, or for cutting up wolves if they tried to eat me.

"I walked along the river that runs through the village until I reached the forest - by that I mean the woods right here, although back then they were a forest, all tangled and dark and filled with who knows what. No-one would go through the forest on foot unless they had to, and even the boaters don't like it, though they haven't a choice, but I was young and brave and I wanted to make my home somewhere special, so I decided to walk through the forest and see what was there.

"It was very difficult. Every step would drag at my feet. The trees beside the river were as thick as a wall and I had to move deeper into the forest to continue, until I couldn't hear the running water and had no idea where the river was, or which way to go to get out of the forest at all.

"It was night and I was cold, even with my coat, and if I didn't set a fire I would have frozen solid. I found myself stood beneath an old tree, just as bent and twisted and wrinkled as I am myself right now. So I pulled out my axe, and I picked the best looking branch, and I swung back the axe to chop that branch off.

" 'Don't cut off my arm,' said the old tree.

" 'I need it for my fire,' I replied, 'or I'll freeze harder than the mountain.'

" 'Why are you even here?' asked the old tree. 'This forest is no place for men. Men make their own places. This is a place for the old things to hide in, to hide from the men in.'

" 'I came here to find a good place to live. There are old things here?'

"The old tree looked about. 'No,' it said. 'No, there are no old things living here but myself.'

" 'Maybe it would be best then if I cut you down entirely,' I said. The old tree didn't like that idea at all!

" 'Where is your respect?' it groaned. 'I was the first tree to grow in the valley. I was here before the first house in that little village of men was built. I've lived since before this forest even grew. I looked out over the rolling grasses when there was nothing living here but the wild old things. And now some boy is going to cut me down to build a fire?' "

"Grandfather Jusht?" The old man looked down at the smooth little faces looking up at him.

"Yes, Ehva, my flower."

"This is stupid. Tree's can't talk."

"But this is a tale. You've heard tales before, haven't you?"

"Yes," said Ehva.

"And in tales you've heard of strange monsters, and magic gifts, and talking beasts, haven't you?"

"Yes," chorused Ehva and Ivan.

"So," said Jusht. " 'If you're so old and lonely, what do you have to live for?' I asked the old tree. 'You don't even have a view of the valley, surrounded by this forest.'

" 'I know a good place for you to live,' it said. 'If I was to show you, you would not harm me, yes?'

" 'I would not harm you at all, if it wasn't so very cold,' I replied.

" 'Then cut down that sapling there and make a fire with that,' said the old tree. 'It grows too close to me for comfort in any case, it has no respect either.'

"Well, I set to and cut down the sapling and the effort kept me warm. I chopped it into logs and made a fire and then I settled down against the old tree's trunk and warmed myself by the fire all night, while the old tree told me stories about the strange things it had seen over the long years."

"Grandfather Jusht?" said Ivan, through a yawn.

"Yes, my little soldier."

"I thought you couldn't make new wood burn because it was too green and it would make lots of smoke even if you did."

"This was a special sapling."

"Oh."

"Now, in the morning when my fire was burnt out I got up and said to the old tree, 'Where is this good place for me to live then?'

"The old tree said, 'There was a fine house of strong wood, just around here somewhere. The forest must have grown up around it. I'm sure that, if you were to cut down some of these younger trees, you would find it just as good as new.'

"Well, I was young and strong, and not too bright, so I started cutting down those trees and looking everywhere for that fine house. Soon I'd made a clearing near that old tree, but there was no house I could find. The old tree said, 'Maybe it was a bit further than I remember; it has been many years since I was able to see it, what with all these young trees jumping up everywhere. Keep cutting, keep looking.'

"So I kept cutting down the trees and stacking them up behind me, and the clearing got bigger and bigger and that first old tree got further and further behind me as I went, but still I didn't find any fine house in the forest. And the old tree called to me, 'You'll find it, don't worry, keep cutting, keep looking.'

"Well, I cut down trees all day and the clearing I'd made grew so long and wide that I could hardly see the old tree at the far end of it, and still there was no fine house to be found. And then, when I cut down one more tree, I found myself at the edge of the forest and the view of the valley was stretching out before me in the evening sun, as beautiful as it ever had been.

"It was then that I heard a strange sound from behind me, and when I turned I saw the old tree was weeping. 'I have not seen the valley for so long,' it said, 'for so long. Thank you, thank you.'

" 'There is no fine house, is there?' I said.

" 'Not yet,' said the old tree. 'But you have cut down so many trees that there is enough wood lying here to build yourself a mansion and still have more left over to sell. This old forest is now only a wood, and safe enough that many a man would not hesitate to cross it, so the traders will thank you. If you plant more trees each spring, you could grow enough firewood for yourself and the whole village every winter, so the villagers will thank you. A man could live long and well without ever threatening a fine old tree like myself again.'

"The old tree was right. I built myself a home with the trees I'd cut down, and it is still fine and strong; I sold the rest of the wood in the village, and ever since then I've planted new trees each spring and cut down others each winter and provided fire wood for the whole village, and the oldest part of the wood still stands, and that old tree, which now marks the border of your father's south field, looks out across the valley view and will do for as long as it stands."

Jusht nodded to himself. He looked down at this grandchildren. Ehva was studying him closely. Ivan was fast asleep.

"So," said Ehva, "when you were in the forest you heard a talking tree?"

"Didn't I just say so in the tale?" asked Jusht.

"Yes," said Ehva.

"Well, if it was in a tale, it must have happened," said Jusht. "Now go to sleep."